Arrow Lake i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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Eleuthera moved swiftly from the Empire. Her mission, as Orlaith had detailed it to her — it was now complete. She was not far from home, and all she had to do was simply return and be sheltered within the willows. It was all perfectly simple, really. Do your job. Go home.

But Eleuthera didn’t go home. 

She descended from the mountain range, with its peaks and valleys that she knew so well, and began to travel on the flatlands to the east. As a seasoned nomad, she knew better to tire her fineboned frame by traveling at unnecessary elevations or over rough terrain. Then she moved in a southbound trajectory at a quick, easy, soulful stride. Her new mission, which she had unceremoniously placed upon herself, was to hone in on the Saints’ position and locate their new packland. According to Orlaith, they hadn’t pinpointed it exactly — yet.

Her feet pranced above the earth, yet her stride was quick! The lilac fae woman raced across the hills and valleys and the face of the planet, feeling the good vibrations well up from deep within the strengthening and stretching of her muscles. As she trotted, her mind lively wandered. She wondered what the future held. She mused upon these new Faeries she found herself amongst. She thought about how she often still felt so alone at night, in the dark, without her brother at her side.

She wondered if Séamus would be proud of her. 

By the time she had made it to the lake near the southern fringe of mountains, Eleuthera was panting hard to haul fresh breath into her heaving lungs, but the smile on her face clearly expressed the joy in it. From there, she meandered through the beginnings of a meadowed area, and as the treeline began to thin, the chiming sound of rushing waters grew.

She began to murmur, singing under her breath — not words or lyrics per se; but many cooing melodies and sounds that were in all rights, nonsensical. It was a curious thing, that the swirling current of the lake did not drown out her voice completely. Rather, it seemed to be its perfect accompaniment. The twists and turns of the bright, aqueous sounds danced with her low crooning, coming together to create something that dazzled her ears and commanded her own rapt attention. Like this, she sat at the water’s edge. 

She had heard singing before, but she had never heard music.


Takes place a few days after this thread
I hope this isn’t too far, @Revui?
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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Ooc — Talamasca
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#2
The mountains called to him, more so now than ever before. He dreamt of the different peaks with unusual clarity considering Revui wasn't known for his imagination; in the daylight he would forget most of the details of his dreams, but those jagged teeth would remain fixed in his mind's eye. He wanted to return to his mountain.

It was easy enough to slip away from Ursus; he had nothing to tie him down there and did not consider the family he had built to be anything more than an annoyance; those boys that Ikkalrok cared for, those were her burden. She had chosen them over him, day after day. No, he would not miss them.

Finding his way back to the range took a few hours but the path was clear, so in those hours he did not dawdle and he made good time. He came upon the foothills at the peak of the afternoon. While the heat was an added danger Revui fought through it, hiking in the shadows, lingering at whatever creek or pool he found along the way to wet his throat and keep himself hydrated.

It was a lot of work moving his hefty body up the hillside, through the winding switchback trails, and all of that. He was Sisyphys rolling a stone to the top of the world; but he would not falter, and upon reaching the top of the range he knew he would feel powerful in his accomplishment. He cared very little about the exact path he took; whether he emerged on one face of the mountain or another was inconsequential, so long as he was there upon the mountain at all.

As he finally crested a ridge that became a plateau wide enough for him to prowl, he felt vindicated. He noticed a moment or two later that he was not alone either—but the presence of the woman did not fully register. Revui moved hastily to close the distance between himself and her, and then bypassed her, seeking the lake alongside her—and plunged his face directly in to the water as he drank deeply.

I gotta be vague because IDK how Ursus reacts to him on his return.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

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228 Posts
Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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Eleuthera was never a bashful woman, but when the other wolf moved in her periphery and began drinking from the water right beside her, Eleuthera’s entire body, mind and soul seized up in silent, utter surprise. Her exterior did not change one bit except for that she now held unnaturally still, staring out across the lake, mouth tight-lipped and vocal cords clipped mid-tune. She pretended she was invisible, corneas slowly creeping to the corner of her eyes to see the person who can caught her perfectly entranced in her own music — and said absolutely nothing about it.

Maybe they could pretend it never happened. 

Eleuthera was in the process of un-freezing and she moved her head a quarter of an inch to the side, still straining to see out of the side of her eyeballs, when she noticed the creature’s immense size. His dark coat. The familiar scent. Eleuthera immediate broke out of her fixed state.
“Revui?" her heart immediately fluttered high into her throat and she turned to him fully, not yet approaching, but beseeching him with eyes of lavender. Is it you?
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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Ooc — Talamasca
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The water flooded his mouth, ran down his throat, and he gulped it despite how cold it felt by comparison to the humid air above. He drank, and drank, filling his belly, until he couldn't breathe at all and had to lift his face out of the water again.

The dark grey of his face looked to be masked in black because of the dampening of his fur; the water dribbled off of his chin, down his snout, out of his nostrils, and from his brow — rivulets that made a melodic beat as they rejoined the rippling surface. He looked surly; glaring across the water for a heartbeat, and then around. He blinked water from his eyes and as he withdrew from the edge, shook his face and shoulders to try and dry himself. As he was quite close to little Eleuthera, the resulting splatter probably affected her.

Revui did finally notice her, and his darkened brow raised slightly. Eleuthera, he greeted in his usual monotone, taking a deep breath of her flowery scent. Nothing around here matched, from what he recalled of the range anyway, except the scent brought to mind the heavy-set warrior woman he had met - Orlaith. You are far from home.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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He drank the water as if the river existed only to sate his thirst, and Eleuthera was a fascinated spectator. The same thing about Revui struck her immediately now, as it did when they had first encountered one another — something that seemed to be a lifetime ago, now — is how he appeared to own the earth, without even really trying. It simply was, as he is: dominant.

The watched him, this man that was both literally and metaphorically larger than life, noting how he stood in such a stark contrast to the Seraphim of Elysium and the Faeries of Seelie Court. It was evident here, and now, in the two greyscale creatures that stood by the water’s edge. The two possibly couldn’t stand in more of a stark contrast from one another, but here they were, the universe daring to throw their paths into union one more time.

Revui withdraw from his engulfing of the river and shook his pelt, slinging water from his almost-submerged face, pelting here with raindrops. The woman closed her eyes and recoiled only slightly, mostly out of instinct, lifting one thin, willowy forearm and drawing it close as she drew away from the main splash zone. Then she opened a single lavender eye, then the other, and resumed her casual stance with a smile upon her maw that belied the fun that almost was.  


“Aye, I am," she answered, shaking her head enough only to cause her ears to bob back and forth — whatever small amount of water had wetted her fur would dry in a matter of moments under the bright sun, and it was more cooling than anything.“and now I'm wet, too."
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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Ooc — Talamasca
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He did not notice how his shaking had affected her, nor would he have cared if he had, except she pointed it out and that gave him a momentary pause. A short-circuit, more or less. The thick-skulled jock faced with a beautiful little woman, being corrected on his behavior. Sort-of. That probably wasn't the intention but Revui stare-blinked down at her all the same as if he'd just realized how messily he had devoured the water from the river.

Still, there was no apology forthcoming. She did not explain herself; Revui had hoped the comment would prompt more out of her, as he liked to hear the sound of her voice, but he wasn't socially conscious enough to ask her point-blank about her home or anything. Wasn't she curious as to how he knew she wasn't from around here? But then he'd have to explain his ordeal with the burly woman - and swiftly snuffed out that line of thought.

It is too hot, he comments sharply in response, presuming he had done her a favor by getting her a little wet. He lamented, You are lucky you are so small, I cannot find enough shade for myself. Much as he needed to pant, he chose to keep his mouth shut after that, to save her the visual. Maybe he would do a cannonball run in to the river to compensate.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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The thought had crossed her mind, several times up to this point. How did he know where she was from? In their first meeting, she had made a definitive point not to reveal the lands she was sworn to defend, from him. Here still, it was information that she played close to her chest, as she knew she was nearing enemy territory — and being so close to the fabled ‘desert place beyond the mountains,’ Eleuthera was painfully aware that she knew close to nothing of Revui and his loyalties. Perhaps they were enemies. Perhaps this was his way of telling her.

Like most things, Eleuthera believed she might be able to will it out of existence if she ignored it hard enough. or she might be able to use that later. She didn’t know at this point, so she focused more on the former. If he wanted to do bad things to her, there wasn’t much she could do except maybe charm her way out of it — and monsters, if he was one, didn’t much like being told they were monsters. But either way, she entertained at least a small amount of trust for Revui that had been left with her from their first encounter. In fact, she more than didn’t trust him. She actually liked him.


“Trust me, the shade doesn’t help much."

The lilac woman had been on her small journey for the past several days, and the oppressive heat had been something she noticed daily. She found herself willing the sky to rain (a prayer she would eventually come to regret) and took forested roads rather than her preferred plains. Either way, she couldn’t deny the cooling effect the shower had on her, so Eleuthera too moved forward to slake her thirst and take inspiration from his brutish mannerisms. 

Eleuthera leaned down her fine-point crown, pursing her lips to draw in the water, pushing her nose into the cool, crystallin riverbank — eventually submerging her entire maw, up to her cheeks in the water. It was hot, and it felt good, and now their pelage matched in their dampness. The only difference was, rather than shake herself of the water, she tipped her muzzle to the sky and let it run down her neck and chest, like an egret washing itself in a lapping tide. 
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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Ooc — Talamasca
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She wasn't wrong. The shade wasn't cooler by any great measure, but he liked to think of it as a place of solace all the same. A heavy wind would have made more of a difference, or rain - but he had not sighted it anywhere while travelling; he liked to think of himself as prepared in that regard, being something of a naturalist (even if by accident). Lately Revui had been so focused on finding his own path that he hadn't really taken stock of the signs in the air - the oppressive heat was actually a good indication of future rain, as all the residual moisture was being collected and drawn away from the earth. It would return and they would all suffer for it.

He stood there ruminating over the virtues of shadows, when the girl pranced to the water's edge and began to drink. He watched her but was distracted by his thoughts - a glazed expression settling on his face. When she plunged her nose in to the water his eyes narrowed; when her cheeks dipped below the surface, one of his eyes twitched and he became suddenly quite focused on her. He watched the slight curve of her shoulders as she bowed face-first in the water in mimicry of his earlier display and his mouth hinged slightly open, aghast, and somewhat awed.

When she lifted free and raised her head, Revui could not take his eyes off of her. The slope of her throat, the deep warmth of her fur where it was soaked through, the way the water pooled between her shoulders and lined the earth at her paws where it found the course of least resistance.

It wasn't exactly rare for Revui to be wordless, being an idiot, but this was perhaps the first time he was properly speechless.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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Eleuthera never really knew what her intentions were, as she bumbled her way about in this world. In fact, up until finding herself with the Faeries of the Willows, Eleuthera probably hadn’t done anything because she intended to in her entire life. Everything, Séamus had always said, was a happy accident for her — or maybe it was that she always had her pale, lighthearted brother to abscond her away from the bad parts of the world. They were travelers — they had seen the good and bad of the world, and thankfully, the bad had left her untouched.

But just because she was now down a brother and called permanent home in the mountains one more, didn’t mean she had grown any more sense than before. She did things because she felt like doing them; because it resonated with her somewhere deep inside. A keenly honed source of intuition is what led her and she followed the opportunities that the universe provided her, along with whatever made her blood rush a little faster, a little hotter. She hoped her good fortune would not fail her now, as she felt the small rivers of water weave a map upon her throat and chest, almost shamelessly performing and playing with him. She wondered what he would do next.

 It was always the mystery of the unplanned that always grabbed her, and held her tight.

However, the answer was apparently, nothing. Revui did nothing. In the stead of his reaction, Eleuthera pealed a small giggle and pulled her chin back in towards a neutral position.
“I try to remember days like this, when it is the dead of winter and i’m chilled to the bone." Then, she dipped a small, pointed paw into the river, wetting this part of herself too, and then reached her forelimb out away from her and pressed the pad of her paw against Revui’s shoulder, dragging it down the broad curve of his musculature much like a painter’s inkbrush against canvas. Her artistry carved a thin, dark line against the grey of his pelt. 

Eleuthera shimmied back a step or two, and admired her work. with a laugh and a smile, Eleuthera darted away into the brush, unsure if Revui would follow her. When he didn't she shrugged, and continued on her way back to the willows. 
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands